London Street 1
by kawaiiokama
Summary: BETA'D BY GOTHALLEX  yaoi, hard lemon. M for a reason folks... mello and matt are reunited after five years in the least desirable place ever. three endings... its explained in the story, guys.
1. Chapter 1

There will be smex... but not in this chappy.

I was reading up and researching some sasuxnaru, cause I wanted to write a smexy little fic for them today, but somehow I got sidetracked and here I am, crouching in a dark metaphorical alley behind a slick metaphorical old dumpster, documenting two imaginary men fuck like the little voyeur I am.

Ho hum…

Matt and Mello don't belong to me, nor does death note and I make no money from this story or any of my others. Though I wish I did.

So anyway. This story has four chapters. One first chapter below, and then three others all of which are endings. You choose the ending, depending on your mood.

Ending one: bedroom sex

Ending two: alley sex

Ending three: bathtub sex

Or if you prefer you can just read all three. I mean, I'm not gonna shoot you dead if you do. *shrugs*

… unless you want.

...xXx...

My boots slapped the wet concrete, I didn't have an umbrella so the rain tracked freely down my face like tears. What an awful evening, I thought as I approached the shop on the corner. I really should have taken my car and parked close to where I was headed. But of course, I hadn't thought of that, had I? Oh no. Never.

I folded my arms across my chest and entered the shop as the rain began coming down harder. The streetlamps lighting my walk had been weak and flickering, and so the harsh white light of the space I was in hurt my eyes at first. My pupils contracted to close out the excess light.

"Hey, Matt." The convenience store clerk, Peter or something, looked up from his newspaper and grinned at me shaking my wet hair out. "Eleven pm is a bit late for you, isn't it?"

"Yeah, but I've got somewhere to go. And I'm out of smokes." Clomping past racks of porno magazines and sweets, I approached the counter and pulled a wad of cash from my pocket. Peter nodded and retrieved a packet of my favoured brand from the locked cabinet and rung them up on the till.

"Here you go, boy." Peter smiled. "I should ask for ID."

Rolling my eyes I flashed him my licence. He glanced at it, as always, and passed me the cigarettes. "Only just…" He joked, and I sighed.

"Here's the money."

"Right oh. Oh, hey, Matt?"

"Yo?" I picked a playboy off the rack and flicked through it carelessly.

"I have a problem with my car…"

"Fan-belt." I put the magazine back and turned to go.

"I haven't even told you what's wrong yet. How do you know?"

"Your car makes a horrible screeching noise when it starts up and you try to drive. It's the fan-belt."

He blinked, my advice registering in his brain for later recollection.

"Fan-belt… right. Okay. I will remember that, thanks."

"Welcome." Opening the packet and pursing a cigarette between my lips, I opened the door to the shop before pausing. Outside, the fall of rain was fluctuating from bullets to buckets, the swish of tyres through deep puddles on the street and the splash-splatter of a slick city storm allowed an indescribable coldness to sink dull metallic talons in my bones. Tar blue night filled the space outside pools of weak lamplight cast on the footpath, and the harsh angular shape of buildings loomed out of the darkness, black on black. It was a hostile place, all right.

I licked my lips, making the decision.

I hurried back, grabbed a bar of chocolate from the sweet boxes by the hot dogs, and thrust some coins at Peter.

"Keep the change." , I told him. "And bring your car into the workshop tomorrow and I will take a look."

"What time?"

"Whenever!" I called over my shoulder as I left, letting the door slam shut behind me. I stood there for a moment, re-acquainting myself with the feeling of having water run into unholy places and permeate every inch of my body, unlit cigarette still pressed between my lips, and sighed, before heading off down the street. I walked alone, no others strode down London street that night though shops were open and welcoming, with glittering display windows of mannequins and tinsel and exotic home wares and merchandise. A twenty for hour shopping boulevard that on most nights would be utilized but today was deserted. Only cars graced the shiny black tar seal, and no voices echoed in the doorways of bars or clubs.

I thought longingly of my flat, where a warm shower and xbox360 online waited patiently for me to return. I had deserted my team mates this evening. God knows it had better have been worth it. Those guys were my life, and I couldn't be bothered going out and making real friends. It was bad enough having to work for money to buy internet, although I hoped that soon I would be contacted by the FBI again. I had already been messaged twice requesting my services as a hacker, and if the third offer was satisfactory then I would be more than happy to leave my apprenticeship at 'AL'S AUTOMOTIVE REPAIR AND SERVICE' and spend the rest of my life in my room with my motherboards and memory drives. Fuck, I'd even do my grocery shopping online and have it delivered to my door.

Smiling to myself at the thought, I took the cigarette from my mouth and cast it unburned into the gutter. Wet, it was useless to me. I was approaching the mall now, and a cinema. I'd only been to a cinema once, when I was twelve years old, and it had been a pleasant experience for me. A little bit unusual, but certainly enjoyable, and my thoughts turned to the boy I had shared the experience with.

Mello.

He had been tall, with neat blonde hair cut into a bob. Never a hair out of place, never without a chocolate bar clutched in his hand. Mello was a genius boy, with a wild temper and glittering, dangerous eyes. Unpredictable, confident, controlling. Mello was like a little cyclone, and as a child he had me tight in the very centre of the maelstrom, completely lost in the speed and vibrancy and violence even, in which he lived his daily life. I had picked up a lot of my traits from him. He was responsible for the uncaring ordered chaos that was my mind and everything I was; a self obsessed cunt with an IQ of 138, a nicotine dependency and a complete apathy for everything. God, I'd have to blow a man's head off these days, if I wanted a kick, and that was solely because growing up around Mello one became so used to the extreme, the borderline obscene, it became a way of life.

I wondered, as I walked right on by that cinema, what had happened to him when he had left me that night three or four years ago. The sight of him throwing his things haphazardly into my rucksack, cheeks pink with fury, it was burnt onto the lenses of the goggles that hung limply around my neck catching water, and burnt onto the cells in my retinas. The feel of his palm flat on my chest when he pushed me away, the wild swish of his hair when he snapped his head around to glare at me.

"Stay here, Matt. You will only slow me down."

Such an unpredictable boy, I should have known it. Yet somewhere, in the midst of all the crazed nights and mad trysts, I had fallen in love with this untamed spirit, this free, burning human soul that was too big for me, too big for even him, I think. And I had let him go. I had let him go.

And I had cried.

I neared the corner, London street still glittered through the rain, reaching all the way down to the warf, but I would be turning off up here, between MiStore, the home wares outlet and the Christian bookshop, which was shut. Down between two buildings in a narrow alley where cats lurked and dumpsters stank and rats scurried for food. A smirk stretched my features. It was dangerous, this activity, anything could be down there. But somehow at the thought I felt the faintest stir of the thrill that had been dead in me for so long. Too long.

What would Mello sound like now? I mean in person, not just over a static old phone in a loud mechanics shop. What would he look like? The same sharp faced demon temptress who beckoned his minions back with a painted black fingernail? I suspected as much, for here I was at the heed of that finger beckoning, here I was waiting to feel the slice of those nails in my skin once more. Fuck, what would my Mello TASTE like. Chocolate, a given, but would he still have that dark earthy undertone on his lips? The sweet and bitter flavour of danger? I hoped so… it was more addictive than nicotine, that taste, and unlike cigarettes the pangs of addiction didn't just fade.

The alley way was dark. The alleyway was dark and shadowy, but a streetlamp illuminated a section of it with harsh orange light. The rain was letting up now, and a breeze began to stir. The sound of dripping echoed in the space, far away the honks of cars and the clatter of the bullet-trains resounded through the heart of the city.

I took a deep breath and stepped into the alleyway, letting go of all fear and embracing the dark.

And at my footsteps, a figure I hadn't even noticed before, looked up.

Standing by the wall between two trash cans and a pile of plastic bags, the figure was half cast in the glow fro the light. Tall, thin, but hunched, with arms wrapped tightly around its torso, the person, man, looked very small, very vulnerable. And terrified. I blinked, and peered closer.

He looked up. I still couldn't see his face, the poor light from the lamp allowed only a few lighter patches to be traced along his cheekbones and the tip of his nose, but I could see he wore a large hooded bomber jacket. It had a white fur lining, but the white was stained dark with something besides the night. His grip on himself tightened, I saw the shadowy lips of the man part in relief, and he stepped forward out of the dark and into my vision.

The shock to my system was immeasurable. Like being hit by a car, that moment of hopelessness as your foot falls through the air because there was one less stair, or looking into a mirror and mistakenly thinking it's not your face looking back at you. Mello looked… unfamiliar to me. Visually, anyway. His beautifully neat gold hair was dirty, caked with blood and mud and completely ragged. No neat cut, just a wild mop of mucky blonde. Like wire. His eyes were tired and his face… his stunning face… one whole side of it was destroyed. A bloody bandage covered the injury, the red had leaked onto the soggy fur of his hood and he was soaked, dripping with water and quaking like a leaf. Yet despite this I had never seen anything so beautiful and radiant in my life.

There was something about that blood, something about his tangled hair and his dirty clothes that made my heart beat faster. Something about the look in his eye. I couldn't see too well but it was obvious that that sparkle he used to have was no longer there, instead all there was was need. Hopelessness and desperation. He was reaching out to me, and the utter feeling of being wanted and needed made me absolutely melt for him.

"Matt." My name on his lips was breathy and choked with relief.

"Mells, hi."

And then Mello did something I had never had him do before. He hurried forward, head bowed, and embraced me. The rain had stopped completely now, I could hear every wet footstep as he approached and feel the touch of his cold skin. He held me tight, gripping me, clutching me, crushing me to him. As though he needed me.

"Oh Matt… Matt, thank you for coming. Oh Matt…"

I shut my eyes, savouring the sound of his voice which yes, was the same as I had remembered, and held him too.

And we stood there for a long time.

...xXx...

Ho-kay. That does that for the non-sexual part of my ficcy. Please be patient, the next few chapters should be up soon, along with an alternate version of this story betad by softcore.

Please review, and if you want me to shoot you please message me your name, address and facebook profile details. I will get right on it.

… jokes! I'm joking guys!

…

…..

….

… I'm not joking


	2. Chapter 2

OKAY! CHAPTER TWO-ONE!

My brain hurts and it's painful.

I'm not a yaoi machine you know! … okay. Yes I am.

Also, 9001 awesome points to the person who can point out another 'quote out of context' from a movie, TV show, book, song or something along those lines. Yes folks, 9001 is OVER 9000!

I have two more sex-scenes, er, I mean 'chapters' of this to post. Patience please…

…

I sat on the edge of the bed and pulled the blankets up over his huddled form. The digital alarm clock on my bedside read 4am.

"Matt."

I jumped at the sound of my name.

"Mello, I thought you were asleep."

"No."

"How are those clean bandages?"

"Good."

"Does it hurt?"

"No."

I smiled into the dark and reached up, stroking his hair. It was clean and silky between my fingers, I had put him in the shower and gotten him new bandages as soon as we had gotten back to my flat. Pressing the chocolate bar I had bought into his hand, I had then tucked him up in bed and went to play my game for an hour, but now I was tired. Now I wanted to sleep.

"What happened to you, Mels?" I pulled off my cargo boots and stood, approaching my drawers so as to retrieve a clean pair of briefs. "You called so suddenly, you are utterly torn up. What have you been doing for the last four years?"

"Long story." He murmured, and I pulled off my pants and shirt. "Do you really want to know?"

"I'm curious, yes."

"Really?"

"Yes, Mello." I changed my underwear, sliding on a pair of cotton boxer shorts, and padded over to the bed. As it were, I only had one, so we would have to share.

"I made some mafia connections."

My jaw dropped. "The MAFIA?"

"Yes. But it was Kira-related, the injuries."

"Kira?" Oh yeah… I had read about him. Apparently he was being investigated by L. If I knew L, then it wouldn't be much longer until he was caught.

"Mmm. Don't worry, I will explain later, when I feel better."

"Mells… I'm inclined to be worried."

"Don't pester me! I will tell you when I feel like it!" A tiny glimpse of my old Mello, I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Okay. You really aren't yourself right now man." Picturing the scowl he should have been wearing on his face, I climbed over him and pulled down the blankets on the far side of my queen-sized bed. The feather duvet made a soft fump, the clean white sheets crackled. They were cool and crisp and luxurious when I slipped between them and pulled up the cover. "Where's my crazy, in your face Mello gone?"

"…" Mello didn't respond for a moment, but I felt him shift under the blankets. "He told me to tell you I killed him."

I laughed and rolled onto my side. The smell of the shampoo I had washed his hair with was sweet and fruity. Mandarin, I think. I just must have grabbed it at the supermarket casually and didn't realise it was for women until I got it home. Hence, I had never used it before. I have male pride, you know.

"Of course. That sounds like something he would say." My hand crept between us and brushed the small of his back. He looked over his shoulder at me questioningly and I nuzzled the pillow, in the shadows he wouldn't have been able to make out the stupid grin on my face. He was making me smile. Damn him.

"Matt… are you sick?"

"Why would I be sick?"

"I thought you might have caught a cold or something walking around out there. That is a disturbing expression on your face and I assumed you might have a guts ache."

Injured or not, I let the hand resting by his back ball into a fist and punch him. It was light, I was careful to avoid any injuries. He got the message though cause he cackled and turned away.

"Softie… you love me too much, Matty."

"Mello!"

"Well you do, though. Don't you? Matthew loves me. Matthew loves me…" A cruel teasing tone in his voice.

"Shut up, Mello."

"You aren't denying it."

"Shut up, Mell! And my name isn't Matthew! You know that!" His teasing was beginning to hit raw nerves. I shuffled in agitation.

"I know, but it sounded better. And you shouldn't care because you LOVE me!"

"Mello!" Worked up into quite a little rage now (he always did know how to push my buttons), I spat the first thing that came out of my brain right back at him, and immediately regretted it. "You love me too, so shut the fuck up!"

I had to cover my mouth.

I couldn't believe I had actually said that. Now, he would simply turn around and laugh at me. No, he didn't love me, and he wouldn't hesitate to tell me. And stupid me had risen to his bait and here I was biting my knuckle and kicking myself in the face.

Bastard.

Mello laughed, like I knew he would, a soft laugh that made me want to curl up and die.

"Matty loves me."

He raised a hand, smoothing his hair, and squirmed in the blankets, getting cozy. My jaw fell loose.

"And Mello loves me." I stammered the words a little bit, and he didn't reply.

"Mello loves me." I said it louder and leaned in close, so my face was at the back of his bandaged neck.

"Matty, what are you doing?" He felt my breath stir his hair and turned his face with a rustle to gaze at me. Still not quite believing, a little numb, I adjusted my position so I was closer still, lying on my stomach, and craning so I could look onto his face.

"Mello, do you love me?"

"…" Frozen, suspended in time with only ten centimetres and a flimsy gauze bandage separating our faces. In my shadow he somehow looked lighter than when he was drowned in the night, his good eye sharp and wide, lips parted in an unsure confirmation. His hair tumbled like gold around his face, and the whole world was in his expression that moment. My whole life on this boy's face. "I don't… not love you."

It was good enough for me.

My lips searched for his and found them easily, a gentle brush, barely a kiss at all.

"Matty…"

"Mello." I held his face and kissed him again, lips pressing soft against his at first, head tilted so he could fit his face to mine. He kissed back, pushing his lips, trying for a rougher kiss, but I pulled back instead.

"Ah ah ah… I'm in charge here now, okay?"

He nodded dumbly, blushing on the non bandaged side of his face, and closed his eye.

"Good." Another kiss, two more, then three. Little butterfly pecks on his lips, followed by a deeper, more lingering one. And then an even deeper one. Slowly, I progressed our kisses from small and sweet to deep and languorous, until he began to part his lips and press his tongue against my mouth. Again, I pulled back and his eyelids fluttered.

"Sorry"

"It's oksy." Another kiss, and he moaned softly. I was going to enjoy this very much.

This time, I too parted my lips, slipping my tongue into his mouth and tasting him properly. The feeling of his tongue caressing mine as I invade his mouth made me shiver, the taste of his saliva was sweet and familiar. And yes, he still retained that taste.

"You still smoke." He noticed, and I sucked my teeth a little self conscious.

"You still eat unholy amounts of chocolate."

"Well forgive me father, for I have sinned."

A laugh, more deep sweet kisses. He changed how he lay, turning onto his back and wrapping his arms around my neck. I pulled him to me, always so anxious I might hurt him. He whimpered softly at my gentle touch.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes."

I nipped his neck softly and he jolted, tossing his head back.

"Ah Mell, careful. Don't hurt yourself."

"Your fault." He searched for my mouth again and upon finding it sunk his teeth softly into my bottom lip.

"Don't bite!"

"I want to bite."

"Mello, I'm not a kid anymore and you're injured. If we do this tonight, we do it on my terms, got it?"

Mello seemed shocked. "… you mean, you want to top?"

"I always topped, idiot."

"No, I mean you want me to lie there and take it like a virginal little bitch?"

"No, that is not what I-" An exasperated sigh. "I want to do it where you don't tie me up and make me ask you to ride me, and you don't bite me or bruise me or harm me in any way, and where I can take my time with you, as opposed to having to do what you want when you order me to."

"… and you think that just because you dragged me out of the rain and cold and let me crash here, I should allow that?"

Looked like old Mello was returning much too fast now. If only he could have just stayed suppressed for another half hour. Long enough to get into new Mello's pants.

"No." I sighed in defeat. "But… you could do it anyway?"

"Why?" He scoffed and I felt myself droop.

"… because you love me?"

Silence.

The rain outside was loud on my roof, it had picked up again and seemingly had no intention of letting up. It echoed in the room and I squirmed uncomfortably.

"Matt, that was a cheep shot."

"It wasn't a shot!" I assured him and he scowled.

"It was. You're just pulling low cards so you don't lose."

"Don't pretend you wouldn't do the same thing."

"… alright."

I exhaled in relief and felt a stir of excitement. I was going to have sex and be in charge of it. For the fisrst time ever.

"But I swear to god if you ever mention this to me again I will kill you. Also, you have to quit smoking because you love me."

"Mello?"

"What? You did it."

"I can't quit smoking I-"

"Alright alright!" A horrified reaction. "Cut back to two a day then. Oh my god don't ever use that voice again!"

I covered my mouth, embarrassed of the high pitched girly tone I had just used, the likes of which haven't been seen since early puberty.

"Sorry."

"You'd better be. God… I'll try not to think about how I'm about to be fucked by a man who can make that sort of noise."

"And I will try not to think about the fact I'm about to fuck a man."

"If you don't want to then stop."

"I won't stop."

I pulled him for another kiss, and guided him slightly more toward me and the middle of the bed. He was surprisingly submissive, letting me pull him over and press him back into the small mountain of pillows I slept on. The crinkle of sheets and feather cushions yielding to his weight was like music to my ears. The feel of the cool fabric slithering over my back was sweet and heavenly.

Weird to think, yeah, I actually did love this guy.

Weirder to think he loved me back.

…

The end. Now get the fuck off my lawn, you punks.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Matt or Mello or family guy, nor any behaviours, quotes or even a bed as big as Matt's is portrayed in this story.

FML…

(Didja catch the hint in there? Didja didja didja?)


	3. AHHHHHHHH

Haha! I completely forgot this story existed! The I got a review from a person named only 'AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH' and I was like 'well this person certainly seems enthusiastic for my writing O.o' and so here you go, AHHHHHHH, here's a third chapter for you.

Alley sex, let's skip the deats and do it.

…

Mello's chest pressed firmly against mine was shaking, drawing trembling breaths and tensing, as though the effort was causing him pain. His hands, white knuckled and shaking, knotted firmly in my shirt, and his face buried in the side of my neck was wet with something other than rain. Warm as it was, it may have been blood or tears.

I shut my eyes and breathed him in, he smelt of singed hair, wet leather and blood. There was no sweet scent of chocolate, no clean smell like vanilla or sunlight. The thin shaking body in my arms was shattered, broken up and torn like a wingless angel. A complete stranger to me on the surface, yet somehow I loved him more than I've ever loved anything before because for the first time ever, I was truly holding him. For the first time in my life I was holding the real boy, not just the unreachable, holy creature I had loved from afar.

Without realising it, I had started to cry. Tears replaced the drips of water on my cheeks as I pulled away, Mello raised his head and gazed at me. Up close I could see he was tired, but his eyes still had that clarity I had adored, like crystal, glittery and blue. The colour lept at me, vivid in the semi-light, fringed with long lashes. So beautiful, the sort of eyes Christ would sin for. The sort of eyes I would sin for again and again and again.

He blinked away a tear and I felt more flow down my face, if he had noticed he didn't point it out. Instead, his arms snaked up around my neck, his hips pressed forward so he was completely flush with my body. I held his waist and closed my eyes obligingly when his trembling lips met mine, light and cold and brief.

He jerked his head back, scanning my face, eyes wide as he tried to gauge my response. Our first kiss in such a long time. Wet and scared.

He found nothing in my face that said no more though, and relieved he returned his mouth to mine, I kissed him back and ran my one hand up his back so I was cradling him completely, my arm around the small of his back and my hand fanned across his shoulder blades. Confident I would hold him, he took all his weight off his feet and gave in to me entirely, I deepened the cold wet kiss we shared and he parted his lips, letting me.

He still tasted the same though. He still tasted like danger and gunpowder and chocolate. And the flavour made me dizzy. In that moment we were young again. Fourteen and tangled in clean white sheets, naked, breathless, touching each other and tasting each other and being youthful beneath the giant wooden crucifix on his wall. Disgustingly adolescent, vulgar, hormonal.

Nineteen counts as manhood, nineteen counts as old enough to cast those mad fits of passion aside and step into the light. Yet at his taste such a feeling of mad burning desire ripped through me I almost choked on my own tongue. He felt it too, like a lightning bolt, because he knotted his fingers in my hair and opened his mouth wider, inviting my kiss. Lips and tongues and saliva, I traced every part of the velvet warmth of his mouth. His tongue, his teeth, I tasted everywhere and he tasted me back. My hold on his body became crippling, and he kept pulling at my hair, kissing me as though the world may stop spinning if he didn't.

But that's one thing you never learn until you're an adult. You don't change much from youth, inside. A body catapulted forward in time and space, destroyed and smashed up and scarred is still the same beneath the surface. Sometimes, when that exterior cracked, you could see the difference and that was what I was looking at now. He looked different, yes, but he had always tasted like this right from age twelve. He always will.

He will be eighty, some day, and he will still taste like this. He will still be like this inside.

In that sense, I suppose we all die young.

God was cruel like that.

"Matt, you taste like cigarettes and cherry-ripes." Mello broke for air and gasped the words. I laughed and nodded, delirious.

"You taste like chocolate."

He drew another shaking breath and opened his eyes. "I love the taste of cigarettes and cherry-ripes."

We picked up the kiss again and this time his hands slid to the side of my face, my hand shifted, kneading his ass roughly. Fuck he had an incredible ass. I remembered the feel of it beneath my fingers, firm and smooth, except somehow it was better than my memory. Sweeter, sleeker. Maybe it was the leather he wore, it pressed him and clung to him in all the right places. Maybe his body had changed since I held him last. Whatever it was, I was an ass man and I was happy.

"Ah… Matt…"

"Do you like it?" I buried my face in the hood of his jacket.

"Mmm…"

I moved my other hand and began using it as well, massaging his butt, milking soft moans from the man in my arms. I wondered if it hurt, the bulge straining against the leather of his pants. I was only wearing jeans and the feeling of being restricted was almost agonising.

"Ah… Matt, here, move." He pushed me away carefully and guided me backward, the small of my back pressing against the edge of a dumpster. Inside, there was a scratching snuffling of raccoons, searching for food. Shadows leaked into the creases of bandages on his face, the little light there was shone across the surface of his good cheek and sparkled in his eye. My breath caught.

"Mells…"

"I love you, Matt." Pink lips, soft and wet with our mixed saliva, formed words I'd never heard before, never thought I'd hear in my life.

"I know."

Breathless, my response echoed softly in the space between us, his eye widened, his cheeks darkened, and he lent forward to kiss me again. And again. And again.

Fingers snaked across his shoulder blades, feeling the map of his back beneath that jacket. He pushed back the hood and unzipped it, shrugging it off and letting it fall in a wet slick heap to the slippery ground. I gasped at what it revealed.

More bandages, just as bloody, just as ragged, up his arm and neck. The tight black leather vest he wore rode up, revealing a flat white tummy, and expanse of skin I wanted so badly to stroke and kiss and lick all over. Creamy and endless. And he still wore that rosary necklace. The wooden beads, the crucified Christ.

Tears welled at the sight and I reached for it, weighing it in my hand. It was surprisingly heavy, but it wasn't a cheap thing. I would never have gotten him something cheap.

"You…"

He nodded and smiled, lifting the beads off and wrapping them around my wrist. I smiled and he grinned too, remembering the whispered words as we sat in the back of Wammy's chapel.

'_It's so beautiful, Matt. The music, the buildings… don't you think?'_

'_Religion is stupid.'_

'_But don't you think it's beautiful?'_

Yes, it's beautiful to have beliefs. It's beautiful to live for something. Religion. And Mello with his sinful eyes. The idol I had gotten these for was here before me now.

'_Could I buy these please?'_

'_Do you have enough money little boy?'_

"They are beautiful, aren't they." Mello smiled at the beads and stroked my wrist with shaking hands. "There's something I just adore about religion. The music, the ritual…" Slow kisses, one placed carefully on one of the beads around my wrist as he knelt, slowly before me.

"Mello…"

"Something ageless and glorious. Religion is a crutch for people who need, Matty." His kiss shifted up my wrist and my arms, he was kneeling up in front of me completely now, knees in puddles, faceless in shadows. "Right now I need…"

"My religion is you." I shut my eyes and moaned the words, dropping my hands to his shoulders. "Oh my god, Mello…"

"Taking the lord's name in vain. That will be ten hail Marys, Matty…"

"Hah…" I let my weight fall on the dumpster behind me as he unzipped my fly. "Hail Mary, full of grace…"

"With meaning, Matty… or don't bother."

"Hail Mary." Shaking, weak, I let my chin fall forward to my chest but made sure to speak the words loud and clear. "Full of grace." His hand was creeping under the band of my underwear now. "The lord is with thee… pray for us sinners… ah. Mello!"

"Do you even know the words?" His fingers ran up the length of my erection, I lost my train of thought completely. "You used to know them."

"Ah… yes I know the words." I squeezed his shoulders and stood a little straighter, the lip of the dumpster was digging into my back.

"You messed them up, Matty." A kiss to the tip of my dick. "It's 'blessed art thou among women'."

"Ah… okay. I'm sorry."

"Don't be, I forgive you." A gentle lick, I groaned and squeezed my eyes shut. His tongue was warm and silky.

"Mmm… I love you, Mello."

"I know." The words breathed against my hot body sent my mind reeling. I was dizzy, aching for his mouth on me, starved for his pleasure. As if reading my mind he gripped the front of my jeans and took my head into his mouth, sucking with just the right amount of force to make me squirm in bliss. He was skilled. Improved so much from that first time in the backseat of a packed theatre. His tongue lapped at me, and he took more of me in, before sliding slowly back off again and licking from base to tip in steady, flat strokes. Feeling the heat of his mouth was enough to distract me from the rain that was beginning to fall again, enough to turn my mind away from the scratching and scurrying of rats, it silenced the fears that a police officer might come, or a criminal. Anything could happen at that moment and I wouldn't have cared because I had this beautiful man before me sucking me off. An angel on his knees bringing me into his mouth and teasing me to orgasm.

Within my gut, something was curling, tensing, building. Urgency, a need for release built in me and I grunted, thrusting my hips roughly forward and forcing myself deeper into his mouth. He wasn't expecting it, but he took it in, and he pressed his tonuge against me as I slid out again. Taking this as meaning it was okay to do it myself, I began thrusting into his mouth steadily, gripping his head and fucking his face. I opened my eyes a little, to see what I was doing, and at the sight of him I felt that curling thing begin to shake, ready to ping back open and out. He had his eyes closed, and he looked so blissful, cheeks pink, mouth moving on my dick as well as my dick moving in his mouth. He looked as though he liked the taste. No, loved the taste. He looked as though he wanted to consume my cock, and then me, and everything. His hands clawed in my jeans, his wanton moans and whimpers. I gritted my teeth and tightened my grip on him, sliding slowly into his mouth further than I had before. He tensed a little, but took it.

The boy took my dick in as far back as he could, until I was completely inside him and he swallowed. The shift of his muscles made me snap, the spring uncoiled, the curl of release flew unfurling and I came hard down his throat. My body jerked up and I rode out the orgasm still thrusting, gasping his name and feeling it in every hair and to the tip of every finger and toe.

He coughed and spluttered a bit, but drunk every last drop hungrily, and sucked me completely dry.

"You taste good." He let me fall out of his mouth and kissed my hipbone softly. "I missed the taste…"

"You blow my mind every time, Mells."

"Good."

"Let me fuck you now." I blurted the words out, without thinking. I had never once demanded that I fuck Mello. We had only ever done what he wanted when he wanted before. In response he unbuttoned the bottom part of my vest and slid my top up, just a little.

"Please do." He licked the revealed patch of stomach and wrapped his arms around my waist. "I need to be punished for my sins too."

…

And Ima leave you hanging there cause it's late and my head hurts.

No, there is no more of this scene. The next chapter is a different/alternate sex scene. Want me to finish this one? Review and tell me why I should, and I will think about it. ;)

Yoo hoo! Shameless review whore right here.

Also, I wish I had used more religious symbolism in the first half. Meh. *shrugs*

9001 awesome points to anyone who can spot the lady Gaga reference in this chapter. (no, I don't own death note or mello and matt. Sorry.)


	4. last chapter

O hej.

Good to see you all.

If you are reading this it means you are expecting something… something good.

Well, I can't make promises it will be.

But I can promise you that there will be some words and some punctuation… maybe a bit of paragraphing and speech. There won't be a plot though, so if you are looking for that leave now. And yes, there is yaoi.

Good, okay? also, i dont own anything so dont ask.

Let's go.

* * *

"Here." I removed his jacket, he let me, trembling and dripping in my foyer. Beneath the jacket, I saw that his arm and shoulder too were bandaged, the leather tank top he wore revealed this, as well as a section of idriff that was raw, red and unbandaged.

"That's better. Come through and I will get you a towel."

Mello nodded weakly, head hung low, and his arms returned to their position wrapped around his chest. I bit my lip, it was painful to see him like this, in the warm light of my flat he looked really vulnerable and weak.

"Here, sit." I pointed him into the longe and gestured to the only chair I owned, a old wooden dining chair. I wasn't sure he would appreciate being instructed to sit in a beanbag in his state. "I'll go get you a towel and run you a bath and stuff, okay? Oh and here." I drew the chocolate bar I brought out of my sodden pocket. "Thought you might want something small to snack on."

He took the chocolate, blushing faintly.

"You know I hate to be a bother, Matt." His voice was bitter and miserable.

"Don't be stupid, you aren't a bother."

A disbelieving snort, and he looked away, eyes scanning my empty little flat.

"I see you still enjoy your games." With a steady voice he pointed it out, eyes running over my collection. A playstation, an xbox, a playstation two, a Nintendo wii, a xbox360 and my newest PS3 were all in their respective places by the widescreen tv, their respective controllers tangled or cast carelessly on the coffee table. My laptop idled on the sofa, stacks of DVDs, PC games, car and gaming magazines and cold half drunk mugs of coffee decorated the bench dining table and side tables, and the smell of microwave food hung in the air hiding the stale smell of a single man living in the city. "And I see you are still quite a slob."

"Some things don't change." I grinned and pulled my goggles from around my neck. My shirt was sticking to me beneath my vest, I peeled them both off and wandered topless across the room to the bathroom, where my towels and things were kept. I felt a weird little stab of pride when I pulled a huge fluffy white towel from the cabinet. I may be a slob but I hated dirty linen, so my towel collection was high quality and always in perfect condition. Same with my sheets. I was glad of this when I returned to Mello and he took the towel gratefully, burying his face in it and breathing the smell of laundry powder and clean air drying. He deserved it. God knows how embarrassed I would have been if he got the towel and it was some non-egyptian cotton, dirty beige thing with hardly any fluff.

"This is nice." He held up the towel and smiled, painfully lopsided thanks to his bandage. "It's like you secretly have a wife buying you clean linen."

"Well excuse me if I like fluffy towels and shit." I returned to the bathroom and called over my shoulder. "I may be a bachelor, but I do like drying my ass properly after I shower."

I leaned over the tub and turned the hot tap on, waiting for it to warm before putting in the plug.

"Hey, Mells, do you want to start taking off some of those bandages, you can't get in the bath with them on." I returned to the main room and shuffled over to the kitchenette, opening cupboards and sorting through bottles under the sink to find the dettol.

"Mmm." He lowered the towel from his hair and watched me, I found the bottle of antiseptic and straightened up, holding it in above my head in triumph. His face was unreadable and his eyes glistened. It was as though he wasn't truly there, he was lost in his thoughts for a moment, and despite his state there was a faint smile on his lips.

"Uh… Mello?"

"Yeah?" his gaze followed me, sharp and dreamy, as I shuffled backward toward the bathroom. I narrowed my eyes, suspicious.

"Bandages. Take them off."

"Bandages?"

"Yeah… bandages."

"Oh, right. Okay."

I frowned, perplexed, and retreated into the bathroom. The tub was almost full, there was a lot of energy behind that tap. I emptied half the bottle of dettol into the water, it turned a faint milky colour, and turned off the Fawcett.

"Matty…"

"Yeah?" I looked up and he was there in the doorway, still bandaged for the most part but holding a bloody strip of gauze in his hand. He had tried to unbandage his face, but the wound beneath had stuck to the cloth. His attempts to remove it had torn the wound and ripped blisters, I bit my lip and my gut squirmed at the sight of him, good eye welling with tears, one cheek red and smeared with blood and shiny burns.

"Oh fuck Mells. Hang on. Get undressed and hop in, the water might soften up the bandages." I reached for the scrap of dirty fabric in his hand and he nodded, a tear slipping silently down his smooth skinned cheek. The sight of it made my stomach squirm miserably.

What happened to you, Mello, my beautiful brave Mello. You were crying and injured and despondent, no more defiant dangerous glint in those beautiful eyes, no more fiendish smile on those perfect lips.

I took the end of the bandage and wrapped it back on his face, I would unravel it properly when he got in the water, for now it would just get in the way otherwise.

"Does it hurt?" I asked, and he nodded his head, crying harder now. I ran my thumb beneath his eye and swept away the tears, before deciding to kiss them away instead. My lips pressed against delicate pale eyelids, they fluttered shut, lashes sweeping my chin, and he sighed.

"Go on, Mel. In the bath." I stroked his hair and he started unzipping his vest, wincing when the leather rubbed against the unbandaged skin on his stomach. I stepped back so I could help him slip it of his shoulders, and unintentionally I drew a sharp breath when I saw the damage. He blushed and dropped his vest and I covered my mouth.

"Oh my god Mello. What happened to you?"

"I don't want to talk about it…" He dropped his vest and began unzipping his pants.

"Okay, here, do you want…" I helped him slip his trousers down over his slender hips, revealing yet more burns. He hadn't turned around yet, but I suspected his back too was raw red and half bandaged. The long string of beads he always wore still hung around his neck, and I shifted my hands so he could finish undressing. Soon, they were all he wore.

"Go on." I tipped my head and those thin arms wound around his own body once more as he passed me. Sure enough, his back was burned and bloody in places, a wide expanse of carnage across thin shoulders and a graceful arching spine. He struggled to get into the bath, but managed eventually. With shaking arms he lowered himself into the water and sighed.

"Okay, Matty, I'm in."

"Kay kay. Is the water okay?"

"Yes. It is."

"Not too hot?"

"No, it's nice. It's actually kind of cold."

"Good, better for your burns."

I turned to the cabinet above the sink and opened it. There wasn't much in there… some band aids, an unopened bottle of lube, some chapstick and Qtips… I searched around for a bit, finally finding what I was looking for. Paracetamol and the small tube of burn cream I had had since the time I burned the side of my hand on michelle fawcets car exhaust.

"Here, take these and let me put this on you."

"Okay."

I crouched down beside the tub and passed him the tablets, which he took, and undid the cap on the tube of burn cream. He smiled weakly at me, I returned the gesture, and dipped my hand in the water, sloshing it on the bandages that stuck to the wound on his arm.

It was slow work, wetting the bandages and peeling them off, trying as hard as I could not to hurt him. I cast the cream aside eventually, after realising it was no good in the bath because the water washed it right off again. Why I hadn't realised that earlier, I couldn't imagine.

Eventually, the bandages on his arm and shoulder were gone, I had cleaned the wound so it was pink and shining, and had moved to his face. Carefully I wet the bandage and peeled it away, gradually it came away from his skin. When I hurt him, his lip spasmed, his closed eyelids fluttered, and I would press my lips to his face in apology, and carry on. Because I wanted to heal him, these bandages needed to be removed.

And then they were gone. The water he sat in was pink with his blood, the damp, dirty bandages lay in a pile on the tiles. I picked the shower head off the clip and rinsed out his hair, shampooing and conditioning until it was blonde again and clean. My fingers running through it came out easily, no knots, no dirt. I switched off the shower and pulled out the plug.

"Okay. You're all good. Do you want me to run some fresh water?"

"Yes, please."

He tucked his legs up to his chest and I turned the water back on, making sure it wasn't to hot so as to hurt his burns. It sloshed and began pooling around his feet. I splashed his ankles and smiled.

"Feeling any better?"

"Yeah. I actually do."

"Good." I shuffled up beside him and he actually lifted the corners of his lips. His hand reached out, cupping my face, and I nuzzled the warm smooth skin of his palm.

"You look beautiful, Matty." A soft whisper, the words shocked me, and my eyes widened. He tilted his head slowly, the burns on his face red and shiny like plastic. God they looked sore. "You look so much older and… like a man."

"Well, I am a man."

"I know… oh my god I know." His eyes raked my chest and I felt heat rise on my neck. Fingertips slid down the side of my cheek and fingernails, ragged and painted with chipped black paint, dragged down my throat to my collarbone. He pulled them back and curled his finger in a come hither motion. Enchanted, eyes trained to his gorgeous white hand, I leaned closer. He touched the tip of my nose, then drew away more. As if he was a snake charmer, I followed him, I was bewitched.

"Can I have a kiss, Matty?"

"A kiss?"

"On the lips. Remember?"

"I remember."

"So look at me, and give me a kiss." He dropped his hand and I raised my eyes to meet his. No longer needy, the faintest hint of his old assertiveness had returned. They sparkled light blue and dangerous, cat-like, lusty, even the one surrounded by burns was glorious and powerful. My heart lept, I shut my eyes and kissed his mouth, savouring the flavour I hadn't tasted for so long.

Sweet, rich… mellow.

I parted my lips, trying to get a bit of tongue action. the edge of the tub was in the way, I had to shift my arm around to reach him and hold the back of his head. After a moment, he pulled away.

"Matty, the water." He gestured to the tap and I leaned back to turn it off before re-attatching myself to his face.

"Wait, Matt, hang on."

"I don't want to." I kissed the uninjured side of his neck and he splashed me to get me away.

"Matt, take off your jeans and join me."

"What?"

"The tub is big… get in."

I didn't need telling twice.

Ripping off my still wet jeans and underwear, I placed my hands on the edge of the tub and hopped in, leaning forward and placing my arms carefully either side of his hips.

"Can I lie on you, or would you rather come to me?"

"Sit back, I will sort it."

Shifting my arms, I obliged and arranged my legs so he could move forward. My bare back pressed against the bath, the back of my neck resting on the edge. Mello raised himself out of the water and straddled my legs, before placing his hands on my chest and leaning forward.

"Now…" His breath brushed my jaw. "You may kiss me."

Which I did without hesitation.

The water around us sloshed as he pressed his body into mine, warm and swirling between bodies and limbs as I kissed him, holding his face carefully so as not to hurt him, pressing my tongue into every part of his mouth. Our kisses were not shy, there was no need to be shy. We had both done this before and so we gave with ease. I let his tongue completely consume me, I allowed his lips to devour me whole, his hands sliding down my chest and over my hips as he pulled himself higher up, straddling my waist. I moaned into his mouth, desperate yo feel him. My body was on fire... to be able to hold him again. I thought I would never feel the shift of his tendons beneath his arms, never feel the grind of his hips against mine ever again. I thought he was lost, but no. Here he was. Beautiful, naked, sexy and against me, rolling his body slowly on mine.

"Mmm… Mello, careful, you'll get water on the floor."

"Good. I hope I do." He threw his arms around my neck and kissed me again, I pulled his waist, gentle so as not to hurt his burnt side, and held him against my stomach. My heart was thundering, his dick was hard and pressing on me. Even though he was injured I held no fear, no second thoughts about taking it in my fist and reacquainting myself with the beautiful length of flesh.

His response, a long low moan, a body buckling into my own, short fast thrusts in my hand that sloshed the water over the edges of the tub and splattered puddles on the ground. Mello pulled away, placed his hands on my shoulders and knelt up, holding my face to the smooth skin on the good side of his chest. I ran my tongue along it and he gripped my hair, pulling ever so gently in the maddening way he always used to at the Wammy's.

"Ah… Matt…"

"Mmm… Mello." My tongue found his nipple and I slowed the motion of my hand. A low guttural growl, my tongue traced the very edge of the pert rose nub. Around and around in a sweet little circle, Mello began thrusting his hips again with a little more force.

"God Mels, someone's hungry for it."

"I ha-haven't seen you in f-four years, Matt. I w-wanted you so badly."

"Really?" My face grew hotter, arousal began caressing my skin a little heavier now.

"Mmm… yes. Ah… oh Matt."

Raising my eyes, I could almost have come from the expression on his face. Eyes shut, head tipped back so a damp cascade of blond fell back out of his amazing blue eyes, lips parted in a sigh of pleasure and a fervent blush seeping across the bridge of a long straight nose. Everything about him in that moment screamed ecstasy. hearing that breathy word, "Matt," over and over again was maddening. I whimpered and began jacking him harder. It was an interesting experience, in the water. The density of the liquid slowed me down, the weight of it built behind my fist and swirled around my hand and his manhood.

"Ah, Matt,… no. Matt. Wait. I'm going to -"

"Then come." I resumed sucking his good nipple and he groaned, trying to pull away.

"No, Matty, don't. Wait a moment, I want to… I want to come with… oh my god Matt stop it. Please stop it."

His pants were becoming desperate and rattling, I slowed my strokes and pressed the tip of my thumb just below the head of his dick. A soft moan, he arched his body and trembled, as we waited for the need for release to subside. After about thirty seconds, he seemed okay again, I released him and he belted out a long low keening note, slumping forward onto me and splashing water everywhere.

"Please fuck me, Matty." He kissed the side of my neck and I grunted, wanting nothing more than to do exactly that.

"Get out and we will go to my room."

"No. Here. Please, fuck me here."

"In the tub?"

He nodded and I stared at him, disbelieving. His lips were red and parted, his eyes clouded with lust, and he was beginning to rock his hips again in that slow, sexy way. His breath was starting to catch too, I stole the last of it with the tip of my tongue, he gasped.

"I want you inside me, Matty." A low purr and a nip to my earlobe.

"But you're injured," My logical mind interjected and every other function in my body snapped at it angrily to shut up. Mello didn't seem to care, he shook his head and reached down my body. Fingers dancing over my erection, face a lopsided mask of unadulterated passion and desire, Mello was almost his old self then. I licked my lips and reached for his face. Was he sure? I sure as hell hoped so, it would be to cruel to back out now.

"Mel, I have some lube in the-"

"It's okay, just use the water." He slammed his lips against mine again, swallowing my last words, pressing his tongue deep into my mouth. Heat shot through my body and tightened between my legs, I arched my body, grinding hard against him and he dug his nails into my chest, desperate. Shaking fingers skated down the good side of his waist and followed the sweep of his hip. Beneath his erection, I squeezed his sack gently before slipping further around and pressing my finger down, searching for the right spot, the give into which I could insert the tip of my finger. Much to my surprise, the give wasn't small at all. In fact, it was quite easy to slide into him, and he seemed to take pleasure from the intrusion. I grunted and bit down on his lip.

"Have you been letting other men fuck you, Mello?"

He shook his head, flushed and sweaty. Desperate for more of my fingers, he tried to press down, but I slid out and received a soft moan of irritation.

"But you're so loose. How is that possible, hmm?"

"Matt, I would never, you know I wouldn't."

"Then how did this happen?" I pressed my finger back into him with ease and he groaned.

"I-I did it. It was m-me."

"It was you?"

He nodded frantically and gripped my shoulders, head thrown back and face twisted into an expression of dismal rapture. His lips parted and his breathing grew laboured. "Yes, Matty. It was me. Please…"

"Please what?" I twitched my finger and his breathing jumped.

"Fuck me."

I smiled and slid my finger all the way in, up to the knuckle. If it was himself who kept his body so well trained, he must have used something besides his own fingers. This conditioning was great. It was better than when we had last done it. Not too tight, not too loose, but perfect. The thought of Mello fucking himself with some kind of toy or device was a hot one. Maybe, if he stayed around, I should ask him to show me.

Maybe, if he stayed around.

I swallowed, trying to ignore that sudden, giant horrific realisation, and another one of my fingers glided into him with ease. The feeling of warmth and the gentle taught muscle surrounding me was incredible, I whimpered and tried to settle my aching dick. I wanted to draw this out, and if I just stuck it in him straight away I knew I wouldn't last long.

"Does it feel good, Mells?" I thrust my fingers out of him and his grip tightened.

"Hah… yes…"

"Do you want more?"

"Yes."

"Very well." Another finger and this time, Mello let a loud frustrated cry out from between gritted teeth.

"No, Matty! Not your finger!"

"Be patient." I scissored my fingers and he grunted. "Patience is something you always lacked." With small, gentle movements, I pressed my fingers around in side of him, searching. After a bit, I pressed against one particular area. His body jerked and his nails drew blood from my shoulders.

"Ah, Matt, there."

"Is that it? Does it feel good?" I rubbed that spot again and he moaned, rolling his hips in small circles.

"Yes… That feels s-so..."

"Are you going to come?"

"Hah… yes. Stop. I want…"

"Alright, alright." I moved my fingers out and shifted the angle of his hips gently, to make it easier for me to slide in.

"Tell me if I hurt you." I murmured, and he gazed at me with feverish, desire filled eyes.

"Matt, you don't hurt – ah. Oh my god Matt, yes…"

He shut his eyes in bliss as I slid into him, and I felt him clench me almost immediately. The feeling of him sheathing me was better than I remembered, it was dizzying and mind numbing, without meaning to I dug my nails into his good hip and he gasped.

"Matty, you are bigger…"

"You feel incredible." A kiss to his collar-bone and he held my face there against his neck.

"Mmm… move."

I lifted my hips slowly, so I was completely inside, and then pulled back what little I could. Being on the bottom I couldn't actually do much, apparently. He realised this though, because he secured my mouth in a kiss before raising himself off my dick slowly and impaling himself again. We both sighed in delight, and he did it again. This time, I lifted my hips to meet him, and with a soft cry his whole body froze, trembling. I could see the waves of pleasure ebbing through his body.

"Did I get it?" A hushed whisper. He nodded, crying anew, and I laughed in joy. My arms wrapped around his back, he began shifting his hips again, riding me a little faster this time and I familiarised myself with the angle I needed to enter him at to make him feel incredible.

"Harder…" His breath brushed my ear as he choked out the word. "Oh god Matty, harder. Fuck me harder."

I closed my eyes, feeling the heat of his body slick across mine, heating the water around us. My hips began shifting faster and he matched me, the water sloshed out of the tub, it was splashing my face and wetting my already wet jeans on the floor. He was growing tighter, squeezing me more and more to the point I was struggling to move. My hands clawed and digging hard into his hip must have hurt him, but he was too far gone to notice. With a long low cry, I felt my body break inside him, and he rode me hard not realizing I had already peaked. Fortunately, it didn't take much longer for him to finish. Two more thrusts maybe, and as the white light faded and I became slowly aware of the water again, the warmth of his body, and the sound of silence that meant the rain had stopped outside.

I smoothed my fingers through his hair, the faint trembles of post sex still shook him a little, and kissed the crown of his head, his forehead, his cheeks. Everywhere I could reach I kissed and he laughed weakly, collapsing into my chest and heaving a mighty groan.

"Run some more water please, Matty."

I pulled the plug and obliged, the bathroom filled with steam as the hot water replaced the cold dirty stuff, and he settled down against me, like a cat preparing to rest.

"Mells, don't fall asleep, you can sleep in the bed with me."

A non-committal grunt, my lover buried his face in my neck and wriggled around in the water as though it were blankets.

"I'm not asleep, stupid. I'm resting my eyes."

* * *

Kk. The show's over. You have ten seconds to leave before I release the hounds. Ten-nine-ah fuck this-ONE!… RELEASE THE HOUNDS! *releases hounds*


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